Pulp is .. being an anachronism of any kind... never using words like gig, quintessential or basically... living on nothing but breakfast cereal... never over-doing anything... always going the whole hog... having massive achievements & keeping quiet about them... spending your last penny on something unphysical... mind over matter... matter over mind if it's that good... not only saying things but doing them as well... doing a wheelie on a Raleigh Chopper... going to parties you haven't been invited to... sleeping in someone's garden because you can't be bothered to go home afterwards... wearing suede trousers with nothing on underneath... living in a dream world... being totally realistic... eating lots of fresh fruit & veg... going on day-trips to the seaside in mid-November... flying a kite at 4am... a Ginster's cornish pasty & a can of orange halfway down the M1... tripping up & pretending you did it on purpose... being rubbish at video games... being O.K. at pinball... being boss at cards... going to the supermarket in a lurex jumper... enjoying washing the pots... sending postcards from places you've never been to... hitching a lift in a hot-air balloon... making contact with beings from other planets & snogging them... painting everything in the house silver & regretting it the next day... having difficulty finding trousers that fit properly... enjoying reading toilet graffiti... being very knowledgeable about antique glass... not knowing how to use a computer... working in a toyshop... doing origami with crisp packets... having deep conversations with the woman in the launderette... getting told off for putting nail-clippings in the ashtray... filling the bath as full as possible & lying in it for at least an hour... feeling nostalgic about things that haven't even finished yet... going to the cobblers & asking for sexual healing (& getting it)... it's not being different just for the sake of it - that's immature... it's all these things & more - but most of all it's about you & us, & what we can get up to together - O.K. ? - alright here we go................

Be Pulp in 1992....... buy a car... dye your eyebrows... learn to astrally project... put up some shelves... get up earlier in the morning... go to bed later at night... talk to people at bus stops... take up conjuring... swim naked in the sea during a thunderstorm... kiss as many people as poss.... wear tighter clothes... whistle while you work... knit someone a tank-top... give away your most prized possession to someone you've never met before... do not drive or operate machinery whilst taking medication... wallpaper your bedroom... swim with the sharks & the dolphins... lighten up... only tell someone you love them if you really, really mean it... try not to break anyone's heart... go camping in Scotland... try not to become bitter & twisted... be as sexy as you can as often as you can... be aware of family planning... change your underwear regularly... smile... love thy neighbour - regularly... give dinner parties for your friends... apply to be a contestant on a T.V. game show... wear lots of brown... get some exercise... learn a foreign language... do unto others as you would have them do unto you... shop around... mind the roads... but most of all, be yourself - 'cos don't you know we love you just the way you are?... it's true................

It's summer &....... each breath is like inhaling thick, heavy syrup... dogs do it on central reservations & cause multiple pile-ups during the rush hour... old women clack their tongues deep in the shade of crumbling concrete bus shelters... foreign exchange students jump from first-storey windows into your parents' flower bed... when you take off your clothes you're still wearing pale skin underwear... the bedroom smells of sun-tan lotion... you go on picnics & put bottles of cider in the stream, knowing that they'll be drunk long before they've had a chance to get chilled... you spend acrylic afternoons in the damp green behind dusty garages... find dead cats hidden in the undergrowth on waste ground... throw stones into the river from abandoned railway viaducts... watch girls in halter-tops carry bags full of warm lager to housing estate parties that start whilst it's still light, chipped nail varnish showing through open-toed sandals... smoke hollow twigs... camp out with a friend in the back garden... You know, I'm glad you made it here, I'm glad that we're together tonight; because this time we're gonna go all the way. Hold tight................